


You with me, Princess?

by DeamStellarus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 21:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeamStellarus/pseuds/DeamStellarus
Summary: Steve and Reader hate each other, but when they are forced to go to an awards ceremony together, they realize they may not be so different.





	You with me, Princess?

**Author's Note:**

> For @caplansteverogers Disney Challenge. My prompt was A Whole New World. So uh, this might be actual trash but I had the idea and I ran with it.

“I’m sorry, Steve, but we really need someone there with you to help represent the Avengers. And with half the team on a mission and Tony having meetings for Stark Industries in China, she’s the only option,” Pepper said, as she tapped rapidly on her phone.

“But Pepper-”

“Sorry guys, I have to run. FRIDAY, make sure Tony is ready to leave in an hour and have Happy personally deposit his ass on that jet.” With that, Pepper was out the door, leaving the conference room thick with tension.

Steve closed his eyes and sighed heavily, his arms tense in their position crossed over his chest. He flicked his eyes to the only other person in the room. There you sat at the other end of the long oval table, a scowl on your face, looking pointedly at the wall opposite you. If he could have his way, he’d be doing this ceremony alone, nevermind the fact he hated talking to the press that would be there. Hated putting on a show for the public. But now having to bring  _you_  along…

“Be ready by 7,” Steve gritted out, roughly pushing back from the table and practically running out the door.

Steve desperately wished Bucky and Sam weren’t on their mission so he’d have someone to confide in. However, just as that thought scampered through his head, he realized it was probably best that they weren’t there. They’d make the matters worse with the teasing they always insisted on when it came to you. As much as you hated each other, Bucky and Sam, probably the rest of the team too at this point, were convinced you were perfect on each other. But they couldn’t be more wrong. Steve associated you with frustration and how you loved to push his buttons. You tap-danced on his nerves, especially during missions where you loved to push your luck.

The one thing he had to admit was that you were  _really_ good at what you did as part of the team. You used your ability to “blink” and teleport to your advantage when you fought. You were quick and graceful as you fought, using “blink” to your advantage to confuse the enemies or distract them depending on the situation. However, you were also reckless in the field, teleporting by yourself into a building with known enemies without backup for starters.

Steve was furious the first time it happened on a mission and lectured you half the trip back while the rest of the team were quietly avoiding eye contact with the both of you. The next time it happened, you argued back with arrogance, claiming he shouldn’t be so angry because  _“I’m here and we got everything we needed, right? No worries, Princess.”_ That pissed Steve off more than anything. That reckless behavior.

Of course, then Bucky and Sam had teamed up against him, saying he does the same thing in missions; throwing himself into danger to get the job done when he should have waited for back up. Bucky never forgets to remind him how much trouble Steve got into as a kid that Bucky had to pull him out of.

_“She’s a lot like you, you know, Punk?” Bucky told Steve one night, while he was taking his frustration out on a sandbag. “She’s reckless, sure, but she has a big heart and a sassy mouth. She’s a little firecracker.”_

_Steve had only rolled his eyes at his best friend._

_“That doesn’t excuse her for not listening to orders, Buck. They’re there for a reason.”_

_Bucky sighed._

_“Yeah, yeah. At least give her a chance though.”_

_Steve agreed and gave her a chance, actively tried to be open-minded and be more friendly with you. He joined the team in the common room that night, everyone with drinks in their hands to unwind. All had been well for a while, but as the night went on, you were more aggressive toward him. You’d snap at him and make harsh comments to him, and while Steve thought part of it was the alcohol in your system making you react this way, it didn’t excuse what you said that night. Nor the next day, when you were sober and ready to pick a fight with him._

From then on, Steve kept his distance from you. He spoke to you when it was necessary during missions or training but besides that, there tended to be a wall a mile high between you two. Until tonight, and this ceremony that Steve could honestly care less about, but he had to show up and represent, and he’d have to be civil and even friendly toward you. There’d be cameras and reporters and he couldn’t afford to let the team down, lest he want to hear an earful from Pepper and the PR team.

 

* * *

 

“You look beautiful,” Steve said as you walked into the lobby.

The shock on your face mirrored that on Steve’s at his statement. You froze before giving him a curt nod and a quiet “thanks” before moving toward the limo. The drive to the hall where the ceremony was being held was long and unbearably silent. Steve looked over and watched you as you gazed out the window. Your face held a far off look, the colorful lights from the city flitting over your face. You really did look beautiful tonight.

When you arrived, Steve stepped out first into the crowd of paparazzi, holding out his hand to help you from the car. Steve didn’t miss how you hesitated before placing your palm in his waiting one, before following him into the sea of flashing lights and shouts. Inside, the hall was huge, and old, for the architecture was amazing and took Steve’s breath away. That amazement was short lived as you were both ushered onto the stage and into the seats provided. The ceremony began with the mayor giving a short speech, that Steve honestly hadn’t been paying attention to. Instead, he’d been trying to figure out how long he’d have to make an appearance at the party portion after the speeches and questions before he could finally go back to the tower away from all the prying eyes and snooty rich people who didn’t really care about much besides showing off to their friends.

Steve was jerked out of his thoughts when something nudged him in his leg. His head snapped to you and you nodded toward the mayor and the crowd, all eyes focused on Steve. Oh. Steve cleared his throat and went to the podium, with you following behind standing to his right. His speech was generic, a general thank you to the mayor for awarding the Avengers for their efforts in saving the city from an almost disaster the month before. When he was finished, everyone applauded and then immediately, reporters started shouting questions at him. This was the part he dreaded. Having to keep up appearances was one things, but with how invasive the media has gotten, it takes a toll on Steve every time.

He tried to reply to every question with as neutral a response as he can but after fifteen minutes, he can feel it starting to get to him. His chest getting tighter, his palms becoming sweaty, there’s a permanent purple blob in his vision from the flashing lights. When did his tie become so tight around his neck?

“Alright folks, that’s all the time we have for questions. Enjoy your evening!”

Steve felt a hand slip into his and then the world rushed by him in a second before his feet landed on solid ground again. He wobbled in place trying to steady himself. When he was sure he was okay he whipped around and faced his saviour. You.

“Ah..uh, thank you.” Steve’s hand landed on his hip while the other flew to the back of his head, nervously scratching an invisible itch. You snorted.

“Not a problem,” you said, leaning against the ledge of the rooftop you were on. “You looked like you were struggling up there. I figured I’d save you before you tarnished the confident image of Captain America.” It was Steve’s turn to snort.

“Yeah, couldn’t have that,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“Look, why don’t we get out of here. I know a place you would just love.”

“I don’t know, Y/N. That’s probably not a good idea…I should probably go back to the award thing. They’ll be expecting me.”

“Oh, come on,  _Princess!_  When was the last time you did something _you_  wanted to do?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but you cut him off.

“I don’t mean going for a run or training, or missions. And I sure as hell don’t mean putting on a suit and putting on a show for all those rich people and those fucking paparazzi. When was the last time you did something that Steve Rogers,  _not_  Captain America, wanted to do?”

Steve was taken aback at your words, but you were right. He hadn’t done anything just for himself in so long. Whenever he tried to find a little peace, either the world was ending or he was helping someone or doing something because somebody needed him to.

“It’s, uh, been a while,” he admitted.

“That settles it then.” You held out your hand, “You with me,  _Princess?_ ”

Steve rolled his eyes at the nickname and reached out his hand but paused at the last second, his palm hovering inches above yours. Should he be doing this? He hated you. Well, hate is a strong word. He disliked you, you  _frustrated_ him, and this could be a total mistake. But you had saved him from dealing with all those people and were admittedly  _still_ being nice to him. Usually at this point, if you’d even talked for this long, Steve would be arguing with you over something, and this was so much nicer than fighting with you.

 _“Don’t you trust me?”_  You asked, your voice sounding odd, but Steve dismissed it, and nodded his head.

“I do.” He grasped your hand and seconds later, the two of you were standing in the middle of a hole-in-the-wall pizzeria. Looking around briefly, Steve noted there were only a couple people in the restaurant.

“Y/N! I thought I told you to stop doing that!” A woman’s voice called out. Behind the front counter was an elderly woman, who although had a stern expression on her face, Steve could see the laugh lines around her mouth and eyes.

“Sorry, Mama Sofia! Just stopping by for my usual!” Steve watch as you ran over to hug the woman and she smiled affectionately up at you.

“Vinny! Y/N’s here!” Mama Sofia called behind her.

“I’m on it!” A voice yelled back.

“Why are you all dressed up, my beautiful girl?” Mama Sofia glanced at Steve and he felt her eyes roam up and down his body. “Are you two on a date?”

“Not quite. This is one of my coworkers, Steve. We just came from a work function, and I thought I’d bring him to have the best pizza in New York.”

Mama Sofia pouted at the information but still pulled Steve into a welcoming hug. He heard a muffled giggle and shot you a look, only for you to stick your tongue out. A few minutes later, your pizza was ready and you grabbed the box and said your goodbyes.

“Take care of our, Y/N, Steve! She’s our favorite!” Mama Sofia says just before you leave.

“Will-” Steve is cut off as you “blinked” in the middle of his sentence, and brought him to a new location, very high up above the city.

“-do…Are we at the Tower?” Steve said, turning around.

“Yup.” You settled onto the floor of the roof, criss-crossing your legs, and opened up the pizza in front of you. You were halfway through your first slice before you got Steve’s attention again. “Well, aren’t you going to join me? This really is the best pizza in New York.”

That snapped Steve out of it.

“I beg to differ. Georgiano’s in Brooklyn is the best.” Steve sat beside you and took a slice for himself. The moment the cheesy, saucy bread touched his tongue, he groaned.

“Told you,” you said with a smirk.

“It’s a close second, sure,” Steve said with a small smile on his lips. You chewed in silence for a while, savoring the flavors of the pizza. It was comfortable, Steve realized, sitting up here with you, not as awkward or difficult as he would have thought earlier in the day.

“You feeling better now?” You broke the silence. “You know, away from all the press?”

“Yeah, honestly, this has been great. Being one of the front faces of the team is cool and all but… so often, between that, and being told what to do in front of the media, and then leading missions and having to take the hit when things go wrong and…it just…I feel so…”

“Trapped?” You offered.

“Yeah.” His eyes met yours, and he was lost for a minute. They sparkled in the moonlight, looking like stars themselves. He broke his gaze, and looked out at the city below them. “So why up here?”

“When I first ran away from my parents as a kid, when they’d first started being abusive, I just wanted to be as high as I could away from them. I remember walking down the street and seeing Stark’s tower and wishing I could go to the top. And I did. It was the first time I ever teleported. Since then, this is one of my favorite places to go, especially at night. Here at the very top of the tower, we can see everything below, all the lights and movement of the city. It gives me a bit of perspective on the city. But, if you lay down,” you saying as you lay back on the roof, your hands behind your head, “all you see are stars. Sure there’s a lot of light pollution, but it’s so much quieter up here and the stars feel closer. I don’t know, I just… I really like it up here.”

Steve laid on the roof beside you, copying your position, and gazed up at the endless diamond sky. He could feel his mind emptying of all the stress and anxiety he tries to hide everyday. Up here, everything felt so insignificant. He turned his head and looked at you, you lost in your own head, you eyes glossy and reflecting the moonlight.

“Since I came out of the ice, I’ve always had to put this face on in front of people, be the strong one. The soldier who went to war in the 40s and survived to fight more wars 70 years later. All the fighting, all the politics, honestly, all of it is exhausting. But way up here, it’s crystal clear how much it’s changed who I am.” He let out a sigh. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been treating you since you joined the team. You didn’t deserve any of that. I’ve just been an asshole.”

You gasped.

“Language, Steven!” You smiled and turned onto your side to face him. “It’s alright, I haven’t exactly been the easiest either. Not the best with orders…”

“You can say that again,” Steve mumbled. “But you really are a pretty damn good fighter. Reckless, but good.”

“Like you have any room to call  _anyone_  reckless,” you teased. Steve blushed. “You seem so much more relaxed and calm, not as tense as you usually are. I like this version of you.”

“I, uh, thanks,” Steve stuttered. “Listen how about we start new. Let me take you out to Georgiano’s tomorrow and we can really decide who has the best pizza?”

“Sure, Steve. Sounds like fun.” You stood up, brushing off your clothes. “We should probably head inside, it’s getting a bit chilly out here.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He stood up too. Just before he took your hand he said, “Thanks for this, Y/N. Tonight turned out much better than I’d assumed it’d be.” You just smiled and took his hand. You “blinked” you both into his room in the Tower, then stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight,  _Princess_.” You gave Steve a lazy two finger salute and then you were gone.

Steve couldn’t help but smile at how the night turned out. He knew he was going to hear an earful from the Bucky and Sam when they got back, but damn if you hadn’t opened his eyes to a whole new way of viewing things. A whole new world, really. The only thing that made him nervous now was the giddiness he felt in his stomach when his thoughts flicked to you. He had just laid his head down on his pillow when he bolted straight up. Wait! Did he just ask you… Was tomorrow a  _date?_  Suddenly, Steve knew he wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight, nervous but excited about what the future brings.


End file.
